


be a good baby (do what i want)

by plinys



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Daddy Kink, F/F, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-15
Updated: 2018-01-15
Packaged: 2019-03-05 03:08:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13378848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/plinys/pseuds/plinys
Summary: “Daddy’s had enough of this talking,” Dinah replies, bringing her hand up cover Drake's mouth instead. “You’re so much better when you’re silent.”





	be a good baby (do what i want)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [whiteknightswan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/whiteknightswan/gifts).



> this is daddy kink dinah*2 smut im so sorry, thanks zo for enabling me on twitter, this is for you

“We can’t keep doing this,” Drake says.

As if she hasn’t said this time and time again already. As if these aren’t familiar words to the both of them. As if they aren’t familiar excuses that they’ve both ignored in the past. As if they weren’t going to ignore them again. 

She’s predictable this one, not just in a fight -  though Dinah will admit she does love knowing whatever foolish mistake the other woman is going to make whenever they inevitably face off - but also here, naked on over starched white sheets, in a hotel room that Dinah’s booked on a stolen card.

Something Drake would frown at her about if she knew.

Something Dinah was purposely not planning on telling her for that very same reason.

They weren’t here to debate morality. Or even fight. They were here to  _ fuck _ . 

It had been easier on her Earth, so many girls willing to fall into bed with her, with the dangerous Black Siren, to have a taste of the wild side for one night. Drake was different from them. She would say  _ no _ with her words, insist that this was all a mistake, even as she was pulling down Dinah’s jeans, working her fingers up inside of her with an aggressive tough the second the hotel room door closed behind them.

Another battle they were fighting, but this one with their bodies, pressing up against each other, moving in a steady rhythm as they both waited to fall, wanting to make the other fall first if only to feel powerful just for a moment. 

“You’ve said that before,” Dinah points out, kissing along along Drake’s exposed collar bone, biting down when the other woman shifts against her. “You’ll say it again.”

“I’m serious,” she insists, weakly. 

“No,” Dinah says, kissing down on the spot she’d bitten before propping herself up above Drake to look down on her. There’s still an eye black smudge on the top of her cheekbone, hastily left behind from the  _ costume  _ she had abandoned before making excuses to come when Dinah had called. 

The fingers inside of her still, as Drake seems to furrowed her brow in a moment of seriousness, “If my team knew-”

“Daddy’s had enough of this talking,” Dinah replies, bringing the hand currently not propping herself up away from Drake’s breast and up to cover her mouth instead. “You’re so much better when you’re silent.” 

There’s a look of defiance in Drake’s eyes.

The look that had drawn Dinah to her in the first place.

The look of a challenge.    

The fingers that had been working inside of her before still aren’t moving, and Dinah squeezes down on her cheeks until they start up again. 

Not as harsh as before but something. 

Something Dinah was going to need a lot more of. 

“Now be a good baby girl, and remind daddy why she puts up with you,” she orders, “And just maybe I’ll return the favor.”

She hadn’t thought she would be into it before. Not really. But when Drake had insisted that she couldn’t call her  _ Dinah  _ because it was too similar to her own name, and apparently calling her  _ Lance  _ had been a disservice to the memory of this earth’s version of her - which was a load of nonsense as far as Dinah had been concerned - there had only been one logical solution.

A solution Dinah found much to her liking now, especially when she pulls her hand back from Drake’s face and is rewarded by the sound of a broken moan from her lips, the choked off words, “Yes, daddy.” 

Drake’s fingers move inside of her with that same fire once again, rough and hard exactly the way Dinah likes it. She rewards her by kissing her, biting down on her lip with the purpose of drawing blood, of leaving a mark that will be impossible to deny tomorrow. She wants them to know exactly what Drake gets up to when she leaves her little team behind, exactly  _ who  _ fucks her so good that she forgets her own name. 

Before she finally returns the favor, bringing her own hand to trace down the other woman’s body, squeezing at Drake’s left nipple on her way down, before roughly slipping two fingers inside of her. 

“You’re so wet for daddy,” she says, teasing, mocking almost, because she knows that Drake gets off to it.

Knows it in the way she closes her eyes and arches up onto Dinah’s touch, her voice a soft broken thing, not angry like she’s used to, as she says, “Just for you.” 

It is so easy to take her apart. Dinah not blaming her when Drake can’t keep touching her, seeming to lose focus on her own task, when overwhelmed with her pleasure. It’s weakness on her part, that only reminds Dinah that she is the superior of the two of them. 

Superior in battle, and superior in bed. 

Dinah works a third finger into her, stretches her and pushes just so that all Drake can manage to  say is a repetition of “daddy, please,” over and over endlessly only more and more desperate as she speaks, louder and louder the hardest Dinah fucks her with her fingers. 

She’s close. Dinah knows she’s close. Knows her body well enough to tell all of the signs.

The rise and fall of her chest as she forgets how to breathe. 

The way her breasts flush with the attention and desire. 

The way she reaches up to bite down on her fingers the very fingers that had been inside of Dinah moments before so that she doesn’t lose control of her powers when she loses control of her body. 

The way she comes apart, eyes fluttering close, body arching, more wetness drenching Dinah’s fingers as she continues to work her through the aftershocks. 

It takes a moment before she comes back to herself.

Slowly.

Softly.

For a second Dinah almost feels something other than  _ lust  _ for the woman beneath her.

Almost, just for a moment.

But it’s gone the second Drake opens her eyes, dark still with lingering want, her lips pink sucking down on her fingers as she pulls them out from her mouth, and says, “Let me help you feel good too daddy.” 

 


End file.
